


infinitesimal being

by sarahyyy



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Curses, Fate & Destiny, First Kiss, Getting Together, Goblins, Grim Reapers, Immortality, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 12:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9234611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahyyy/pseuds/sarahyyy
Summary: Yuri snorts, and pushes his glass of ice tea away. “Alright, it’s been fun listening to your story, but I actually do have other more important things to do than to listen to you telling me that I’m destined to be your bride.”He stands, and Otabek follows suit. “If it’s the terminology you have an issue with-”“It’s not,” Yuri assures him. “It’s more of the fact that everything you’ve told me so far sounds like a goddamn fairytale that only children believe in.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Or, the [Goblin](http://asianwiki.com/Goblin_\(Korean_Drama\)) AU that literally nobody asked for.

When he wakes up, Otabek is on the ground, gasping for breath. Phichit is on his knees by Otabek, grip strong on Otabek’s forearm as he helps manoeuvre Otabek to a sitting position, back leaned against the bed. 

To Phichit’s credit, he waits until Otabek’s breathing has slowed down to a much more acceptable level, before he says, “The nightmares are getting more frequent now.”

Otabek closes his eyes. “I’ve told you before not to come in when it happens.”

Phichit claps him on the shoulder. “My forefathers have been serving you for nine hundred years now,” he says flippantly. “If you were going to hurt someone in your sleep, you would’ve already.”

“Maybe it’s never happened yet because your ancestors were a lot better at following my instructions to not come into my room when I say not to,” Otabek says dryly, knowing that Phichit will just shrug off his advice the next time it happens. He has to do it for form’s sake. “They had a lot of respect for me.”

“Mm hmm,” Phichit agrees. “But I’m the only one you actually had to raise on your own, and you didn’t raise me to serve you, so that’s mostly your fault.”

Otabek grows quiet. “I should’ve saved your parents,” he says, after a long pause.

Phichit makes a noise of annoyance. “You couldn’t have,” he tells Otabek, and how is it that he’s taking this so much better than Otabek has the past twenty-five years? “And even if you could have, they wouldn’t have let you. They made their choice to die so I could live.” He flashes a smile at Otabek. “Me being here, alive and carrying on the sacred duty of our family to stand by you, this is what they wanted,” he says. 

“ _Phichit_.”

The next sigh that Phichit lets out is long-suffering. “You always get sentimental after your nightmares,” he complains. “And they _are_ getting more frequent now.”

Otabek doesn’t say anything to that.

“I worry, Lord Altin,” Phichit says gently. 

Otabek glares at him. 

Phichit shrugs. “You _wanted_ me to be more respectful, didn’t you?” he asks, grinning. And then, “I’ve arranged for a series of meetings to happen over the next week for you.”

Otabek doesn’t ask him what for. Ever since he told Phichit about the goblin’s bride, Phichit has been obsessed with helping Otabek find the person he’s been looking for, unwilling to watch Otabek go through increasingly frequent sleepless nights, dreaming about all the people Otabek has failed, let down, or watched die in his very long life. 

He wonders if Phichit will still be so eager to find that person if he understood that the only way that Otabek can be freed from his circle of suffering is if he dies.

“You will go, won’t you?” Phichit says. 

Otabek nods. 

—

Truthfully, Otabek has given up on finding his bride. 

He’s been searching for centuries, and at one point, he accepted that his punishment had no end, that the fledge of hope he was given when he was cursed with eternity was just a hoax told to him to make him think there is a way out of this, which is a constant torment in itself.

He likes to think that in the decades since he’s had that realisation that he’s come to terms with it. 

It’s not the worst existence, and if he’s sometimes struck with pain so sharp that he can barely breathe through it, or dreams of tears and blood and _unkept promises_ , it’s fine, he’s used to it, it passes. And he has Phichit to keep him company, and Phichit’s descendants to take over, when Phichit’s time is up. 

Really, he’s okay.

—

And then he meets Yuri Plisetsky.

—

Yuri Plisetsky has a glow to him that Otabek cannot understand. 

They don’t meet at one of the meetings Phichit arranges for the sole purpose of helping Otabek find his bride, but through a chance encounter, while they’re both crossing opposite sides of the street. 

Yuri is beautiful, but Otabek has lived almost a millennia, and at this point, beauty doesn’t mean anything much to him anymore. It should be easy to look away from him, but Otabek’s pace slows as each step brings him closer to meeting Yuri in the middle of the junction, until finally, he’s rooted to the ground, bringing time to a stop just so he can _look his fill_.

Yuri has his phone to his ear, and his lips twisted down into the beginnings of a frown, but still, _still_ he’s glowing, and Otabek is struck with such a sudden need to spend his eternity in just this moment.

The thought startles him, and he lets out a sharp exhale. Just like that, the stillness of the moment breaks, and Yuri is walking away from him. 

Otabek should forget the moment. 

There is something to Yuri that sets him apart from all the other mortals, and Otabek’s lived long enough to how dangerous the unknown is. He may be immortal, but there’s really no sense is chasing down trouble.

A second goes by, and then another. 

Otabek thinks of the sharp look in Yuri’s eyes — the eyes of a soldier, and knows that he is strong enough, capable enough for the task. He thinks of the glow surrounding Yuri, and how _significant_ it’d felt. 

Most of all, he thinks of Yuri’s long, elegant fingers, how they would curve just right, and free him from his prison.

He turns, and goes after Yuri. 

—

Yuri almost walks away two times during their conversation. 

The first time happens barely minutes after Otabek’s talked Yuri into sitting down to have a cup of coffee with him, when Otabek, unthinkingly, starts the conversation with, “I’m a goblin.”

Yuri’s already standing up from his seat when Otabek wills the chair to knock into the back of Yuri’s knees gently. The shock of it is enough to make Yuri sit again, and Otabek knows from the way Yuri’s eyes widen just a touch, that he has Yuri’s attention.

The second time it happens is after Otabek is done telling him about the myth behind the goblin’s bride. 

“Goblin’s bride?” Yuri echoes dubiously. 

Otabek nods. 

“And you’re telling me because?” Yuri asks. 

“Because I think _you’re_ my bride.” 

Yuri snorts, and pushes his glass of ice tea away. “Alright, it’s been fun listening to your story, but I actually do have other more important things to do than to listen to you telling me that I’m destined to be your bride.” 

He stands, and Otabek follows suit. “If it’s the terminology you have an issue with-” 

“It’s not,” Yuri assures him. “It’s more of the fact that everything you’ve told me so far sounds like a goddamn fairytale that only children would believe in.”

Otabek sighs. Then, without looking away from Yuri, he points to the entrance of the cafe, where a man is walking in. “His name is Katsuki Yuuri, he’s here for an iced Americano. He’ll take exactly thirteen more steps before he sees the blond gentleman sitting at the table by the fern, and then stop walking. That man is Victor Nikiforov, and Yuuri is going to be his husband one day.” 

He watches as Yuri’s eyes narrow, knows from his evident concentration that he’s counting Yuuri’s steps. 

“Not today, though,” Otabek continues. “Today, Yuuri is going get flustered, and then he’s going to panic and turn away. He’ll leave the shop without his Americano, and without meeting Victor.” 

Yuri sits back down.

“How do you know?” Yuri asks. “How do you know that I’m your…”

“Bride,” Otabek supplies helpfully. “Spouse works. Partner, if you prefer. It doesn’t mean what you think it does. I would say it’s more of a business arrangement than anything else.” 

Yuri rolls his eyes. “Whatever,” he bites out. “How do you know?”

Otabek leans back in his seat. 

This is the moment of truth. He can suspect, wish, _hope_ all he wants, but this is the moment he’ll know if he’s right. 

“Do you see it?” he asks. 

No elaboration, no context. If Yuri is the one he’s been looking for, he won’t need any further explanation. 

For a long moment, Yuri doesn’t say anything, just stares at Otabek with an incredulous look on his face, like he isn’t sure if Otabek is sane, like he isn’t sure if he should still be here with Otabek, and for a split second, all Otabek feels is relief. 

It’s good that Yuri can’t see it, good that Yuri isn’t the one he’s looking for, because he’s still glowing, and Otabek still can’t bear to look away from him, and he thinks that it’ll be so easy to choose to stay here, imprisoned by his immortality, just to keep looking on at Yuri.

But the moment doesn’t last. 

Yuri’s expression smoothes out into something calmer and less judging, and Otabek feels his stomach drop. 

“See what?” Yuri says, and the smirk on his face is Otabek’s damnation, his salvation. “That sword buried in your chest?”

Otabek stops breathing.

—

“I heard you found your bride,” Seung-gil says.

“Partner,” Otabek corrects lightly. “He doesn’t like the term bride.”

Seung-gil flashes him an unimpressed look. “Should I congratulate you on finally figuring out how to die, or should I have to lament at the mountain of paperwork that I would incur from the death of a goblin centuries old?” He schools his frown into a more neutral expression. “Can I convince you to die outside my jurisdiction?”

Otabek arches an eyebrow. “Technically, I was promised that I would turn to the ashes, and cease to exist. If there’s no soul for you to reap, is my death really part of your jurisdiction?”

“Touché,” Seung-gil says, and smiles faintly. “I’ll bring that up with Management.”

Otabek raises his glass at Seung-gil, and downs the contents.

“When is it happening?” Seung-gil asks. 

“I don’t know yet,” Otabek tells him. “He won’t do it now. Says he doesn’t do anyone any favours, not even goblins. But he doesn’t want money, or fame, or anything I can offer him right now.” 

“Then what does he want?” 

“To trade a favour for a favour,” Otabek says, and he’s smiling at the satisfaction in Yuri’s eyes when Yuri’d suggested it the other day. “He’ll call in the favour when he needs it, and he’ll remove the sword for me when I’ve done him his favour.”

Seung-gil frowns. “Do you need help with that?”

Otabek arches his eyebrow.

“I can compel him into doing it,” Seung-gil suggests. “Or I can create a situation where he’ll have no choice but to call in his favour with you. Accidents happen all the time-”

The thought of Yuri hurt and forced to play his hand makes Otabek’s chest tighten. 

“No,” he snaps. And then, softer, because he knows Seung-gil means well, in that odd way of his, and that he wouldn’t have offered if he hadn’t considered Otabek to be somewhat a friend, even with all their bickering, “Thank you, but I’m happy to wait. I made a promise, and I would like to keep it.”

Seung-gil nods, and they fall quiet. 

Seung-gil isn’t the first Grim Reaper Otabek has come into contact with over the years. Over the years, they spend most of their time together arguing loudly about everything in public, but in private, they mostly sit in companionable silence like this, each nursing a glass of their preferred spirits. 

The other Reapers call them enemies, but Otabek likes to think of them as friends. 

“Is Phichit still-”

Seung-gil cuts him off with an exasperated look. “Yes, he’s still going to live to the ripe old age of ninety-three before he passes away peacefully in his sleep.”

“Good,” Otabek says. “I think you should move in.”

The look of incredulity on Seung-gil’s face almost makes Otabek smile.

“What?”

“It’s a big house,” Otabek says. “It’s going to be lonely for Phichit, after I’m gone. And at least he’s used to having you around in the house.”

“I’ll…think about it,” is Seung-gil’s careful reply.

It means a lot to Otabek that Seung-gil doesn’t refuse him. But then again, he hadn’t expected Seung-gil to; Seung-gil has always had a soft spot for Phichit. 

“Otabek,” Seung-gil says, later in the night, when he’s making a move to leave. “When it happens, if you need someone to be there for you…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, but Otabek nods anyway.

Yeah, they are definitely friends.

—

“What are you doing here?” Yuri asks, when Otabek shows up at his apartment one morning. “How do you even know where I live?”

Otabek opens his mouth to reply, but Yuri lets out a groan of annoyance and says, “The goblin thing, of course.” 

Otabek nods. “Yes, the goblin thing. It comes in handy.”

“It’s also creepy and stalkerish,” Yuri mutters under his breath, but steps aside to let Otabek into his apartment anyway. 

“I knocked,” Otabek points out. “I could’ve not knocked.”

Yuri rolls his eyes, and doesn’t bother dignifying Otabek’s words with a response. “What are you doing here?” he asks again.

“It’s been four days,” Otabek says. “I came to check if you’ve decided what you want your favour to be.”

“I haven’t,” Yuri replies. “The door is behind you, see yourself out.”

Otabek refrains from frowning. “If you need ideas-” 

Yuri sighs. “I’m not in a hurry to cash in my favour,” he tells Otabek. “If you’re in a hurry to get that sword removed, then you’re free to go find another bride.”

“There is no other bride,” Otabek tells him quietly. “It’s taken me nine hundred years to find you. I’ll wait however long you want me to.”

Yuri falls silent at that, and crosses his arms over his chest, silently regarding Otabek. 

Then, he groans, and says, “Stop looking at me like that.” He turns away from Otabek, taking long, irritated strides towards the kitchen. “If you want breakfast, you’d better be able to create some flour out of thin air with your goblin magic.”

Otabek smiles, and creates the flour for him.

—

The first time Yuri inadvertently summons Otabek to his side happens like this:

One second Otabek is sitting at the dining table in his home with Seung-gil, waiting for Phichit to be done with whatever concoction he’s cooked up for dinner that night, and the next, Seung-gil is looking at him with an odd expression.

“There’s smoke coming out from your shoulder,” Seung-gil offers, and Otabek isn’t even able to respond before he finds himself fading away.

He reappears outside, where it’s dark and freezing, and Yuri is there, a few yards away from the outdoor ice skating rink. 

Otabek knows that Yuri had a career in ice-skating before he was put out of commission by an injury during a competition, and it’s clear from the look in Yuri’s eyes that he’s thinking about how it.

He approaches Yuri slowly.

“I can fix your knee for you,” he says quietly from behind Yuri. _It wouldn’t even have to be a favour_ , he wants to say, just for the possibility of making Yuri smile, anything to erase the wistfulness in his eyes. 

“I retired a champion, in my prime,” Yuri asks, glancing over his shoulder to look at Otabek. “It wouldn’t be the same, even if you fixed my knee.”

Otabek says, “I could make you better.”

Yuri laughs, but he sounds more tired than happy. “You must really want me to call in that favour,” he says.

“I just want to help,” Otabek tells him honestly. “And you must have been thinking about it too, or I wouldn’t be here.”

Yuri turns over to face Otabek. “Is that a thing I can do? Think about the possibility of calling in a favour, and have you show up?”

“Yes, and no,” Otabek says. “It’s not thinking about a favour that triggers the summoning. You have to think about _me_.”

“In any context?” Yuri asks dubiously. 

Otabek nods. 

“Huh.”

By right, Otabek should be an expert in reading human emotions —after all, he’s spent nine hundred years studying them—, but the flash of _something_ that passes through Yuri’s expressions is incomprehensible to him. 

He yearns to know Yuri better, to learn every tic of his, to be able to look at Yuri and _understand_ him. 

“I’m hungry,” Yuri interrupts Otabek’s silent woolgathering. “Is flour the only thing you can conjure, or are kebabs also on the list?”

“What kind?” Otabek asks. He’s already prepared to give Yuri what he wants, but then a thought comes to him. “There’s a pretty good kebab place five minutes away.”

Yuri shoots him a look. “Why do we have to walk when you can magic food to us?” he asks plaintively, but he’s already starting to walk away from the rink.

Otabek says, “I’ll race you there. Loser picks up the tab.” 

He doesn’t wait for Yuri’s reply, just takes off running.

He’s laughing when he hears Yuri yelling angrily, not too far behind him, which means that Yuri has also started running after him, “You’re the cheapest goblin I’ve ever met!” 

—

Otabek knows he’s being stared at, but he’s always been good at ignoring Phichit when he wants to, and the addition of Seung-gil does nothing to change that. 

“Are you honestly not going to answer any questions?” Phichit finally spits out, unable to keep his words in any more. 

Otabek allows himself the tiniest of smiles. “I wasn’t asked any,” he says frankly. 

“Is it true? Did you find your bride? What is she like? She must be extraordinary. Is she? When’s the wedding?”

Seung-gil snorts, and Otabek says to him, “Did you not tell him anything?”

“He wouldn’t budge!” Phichit yells, as Seung-gil shakes his head. “I _begged_ for information, and he just sat there, eating his goddamn salad like an automaton!”

Seung-gil side-eyes Phichit. “You do know that I’m the Grim Reaper, right? As in, death comes where I follow, if I say your name thrice you’ll die?”

“The former is a superstition, the latter a myth,” Phichit says simply. “You taught me that.”

“I could have been lying,” Seung-gil says. To Otabek, he says, “How attached are you to this brat?”

“Unfortunately,” Otabek says gravely, “very.”

Phichit spares a moment to beam at Otabek before he remembers where the conversation was going before it got sidetracked. “Tell me about your bride!” 

“Partner,” Otabek corrects. “He doesn’t like the term _bride_.”

Phichit gasps. “I didn’t even think to arrange meetings with men!” he laments. “I have done you a great disservice, Lord Altin, and brought shame upon my family.”

Otabek rolls his eyes. “I really shouldn’t have let you go to drama camp that one summer,” he says. 

“Just be glad we managed to talk him about of acting school,” Seung-gil says. 

Phichit huffs. “I’m not going to argue with the both of you because I am very happy right now,” he says. And then he barrels into Otabek, hugging him tightly. “I’m really glad you’re better now.”

Strictly speaking, Otabek hasn’t gotten any better. He still has nightmares, and he still wakes up screaming from the pain in his chest most nights; he’s just gotten better at sealing his room shut with spells. There’s no point in making Phichit worry over something that can’t be helped, not yet. 

“I’m glad I’m better now, too,” Otabek says, returning Phichit’s embrace briefly.

“When do I get to meet him?” Phichit asks.

When Otabek talks to Yuri about keeping the whole sword-in-the-chest thing a secret from Phichit. Phichit has grown up thinking that Otabek is being tortured by nightmares; Otabek doesn’t ever want Phichit to have to find out that his pain is very real and very physical. 

If Otabek explains that it’s all for Phichit’s sake, and that Otabek doesn’t want Phichit to have to worry, Yuri will probably agree to keep it between them.

“As soon as you talk Seung-gil into moving in,” he tells Phichit, and smirks at the look on Seung-gil’s face. 

“Leave me out of this!” 

“Seung-gil!” Phichit cries. “O’ great Grim Reaper, Bringer of Death! Do us the great honour-”

Seung-gil scowls at them, and disappears in a puff of smoke. 

—

Yuri doesn’t startle when Otabek shows up at the grocery store, just scowls at him, and shoves his shopping basket at Otabek. “I wasn’t even thinking about you,” he complains. 

“I know,” Otabek says. He was just bored at home, and…he wanted to see Yuri, even if it’s just for a little while before Yuri chases him away. “I just thought that since I’m always conjuring food up for you, that maybe we need to balance this out.”

Yuri lets out a squawk, indignant. “I made you pirozhki!” he cries. “And technically, you didn’t conjure the kebab!”

“I paid for it, though,” Otabek points out. 

“Because you lost the race!” 

Otabek can’t stop the corners of his lips from curling up. He’s already feeling a lot better even after spending just a few minutes with Yuri.

He wonders what it’d be like to have a life with Yuri, and quickly backs away from that thought, because it’s not possible, and he should know better than to indulge in impossible dreams.

“Only because you cheated,” Otabek says, turning back to the conversation, even though at this point, he’s stayed silent long enough for Yuri to notice the dampening of his mood.

Yuri doesn’t call him out on it, though, just continues the conversation, the way Otabek hoped that he would. 

“You never said I couldn’t cheat,” Yuri says with a shrug.

Otabek snorts, irrationally fond of Yuri in this moment. “I’ll pay for the groceries,” he concedes. “But you’re making dinner.”

“Ugh,” Yuri groans. “I did not sign up for this.”

But Yuri doesn’t actually say no, and he doesn’t ask Otabek to leave him alone. 

What he does is this — he dumps another bag of radishes into the shopping basket, he removes the tomatoes he’d already chosen, and he pauses by the mushrooms for a moment before he makes a face, and tells Otabek, “I know you like them, but I think they’re disgusting in okroshka.”

Otabek feels a warmth suffuse him at Yuri’s words, remembers the night at the kebab store where he’d ordered his kebab with extra mushrooms and no tomatoes, and can’t stop the smile from unfurling on his face. 

—

A normal person would be more or less alarmed when sat facing Phichit, who is beaming so widely his cheeks must hurt, and Seung-gil, who is looking unimpressed as usual, but Yuri is completely unfazed. All he does is to lean back in his seat, and take another sip of his frothy iced drink. 

Otabek can’t help but to smile a little at that — he’s always known, after all, that Yuri is extraordinary.

Yuri sets his drink down, and looks at Phichit. “Okay. Who are you?”

“Phichit Chulanont, at your service!” Phichit chirps. And then he lowers his voice into a conspiratorial whisper, and gestures towards Otabek while not looking away from Yuri, “I am his son, his brother, his father, and his grandfather. And one day, when I am no longer able to, my son will be his son, his brother, his father, and his grandfather.”

Yuri shoots Otabek a look that screams _‘is this guy serious?’_ , and Otabek shrugs lightly, because Phichit’s antics are mostly out of his control.

Seung-gil rolls his eyes, and explains, “Think of him as a house pet that you can’t get rid of because of _someone’s_ irrational attachment.”

Yuri arches an eyebrow, and crosses his arms. “And _you_ are?”

Seung-gil’s smile is terrifying. “I am the messenger of the Underworld,” Seung-gil says. Outside, the light of the lamppost closest to them flickers ominously. “I am the herald of Death-”

It’s Phichit’s turn to roll his eyes. “He’s the freeloader staying in our house,” he cuts in.

“Right,” Yuri says. 

In front of them, Phichit keeps beaming, and Seung-gil keeps glowering. 

Otabek should say something, should at least make an effort to help Yuri try to deal with them, but he’d been hoping so much that they would take to Yuri, that Yuri would grow to enjoy their company as much as Otabek does without Otabek’s influence.

A beat goes by. Then another. 

And then Yuri uncrosses his arms, and leans forward a little. “So which one of you has embarrassing stories of Otabek to tell me?” he asks, eyes narrowed shrewdly. 

Phichit gasps in delight. “I love him already,” he tells Otabek, and then turns back to look at Yuri. “I’ve got about twenty years worth of material, and Grandpa Grim Reaper-”

“ _Excuse me_?”

“-has about three hundred years of stories.” Phichit gestures to Yuri’s drink. “Get a refill, and then pick a year to start. We’re going to be here for a long time.”

Yuri looks at Otabek, and Otabek flashes him a tiny half-smile. 

“I’ll get your drink,” he tells Yuri. To Phichit and Seung-gil, he sighs, and says, “You might as well start with the story about the kidnapping back in Toronto.”

“Oh, that’s a good one!” Phichit says. “So get this, while on a vacation in Toronto ten years ago, Otabek almost got _kidnapped_.” 

Seung-gil snorts. “What happened next will shock you.”

Yuri finally cracks a smile.

—

The first time Yuri summons Otabek with the specific intention of calling in his favour happens four months after he first meets Yuri. 

“Can you-” Yuri swallows, and then rubs at his eyes. “Can you bring someone back?” he asks finally, after a long, weighty pause. 

Otabek’s stomach falls. He’s not a stranger to being a disappointment, knows that he’s failed many people in the early parts of his life, but the idea of not being able to give Yuri what he wants eats at him. 

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. 

Yuri nods. “Don’t look at me like that,” he says. “I didn’t really think you would be able to. I just… I just wanted to ask, on the off chance that you could.”

Otabek says, again, “I’m sorry.”

Yuri chuckles. “I don’t even know why I’m like this,” he tells Otabek. “Grandpa has been gone for two years now, but every time it gets close to his death anniversary, I just-” He swallows. “I just miss him so much.”

Otabek wants to apologise again. It’s the only thing he can think of saying, but it’s not what Yuri needs from him right now. 

His inadequacy washes over him again. It makes him feel raw and lacking, undeserving of Yuri. 

“Can you stay?” Yuri asks. “For dinner?”

Otabek nods. 

“It’s just- These few days, I keep making food for two. Which is stupid.” Yuri scrubs a hand over his face, and lets out a loud, irritated huff. “It’s not like I don’t remember that he’s gone, and isn’t here to eat it with me, but just…” Yuri trails off, and doesn’t finish his sentence. 

“I’ll stay,” Otabek says, and on a whim, he steps in closer, and tugs Yuri into his arms. 

Yuri doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t push Otabek away, just wraps his arms around Otabek, hugs him back, and doesn’t let go for a long time.

“Thank you,” Yuri murmurs, and the gratitude is so plain in his voice.

Otabek shows up for dinner at seven sharp the next few nights. 

—

As a general rule, Yuri doesn’t summon Otabek a lot. Mostly, Otabek shows up, either for dinner, or just because he’s “in the neighbourhood”, and Yuri never comments about the frequency of Otabek’s visits.

He asks Yuri about it one time, only for Yuri to roll his eyes at him, and say, “I have better things to do than to sit around and think about you all day long, Altin.”

Yuri’s words are harsh, but he still remembers to leave the spring onion garnish off Otabek’s meal, and Otabek counts that as a point in his favour. 

So when Otabek’s shoulder starts smoking late one night, when he’s just made himself comfortable in bed, he’s worried that something might have happened to Yuri. 

He fades from his bedroom in the manor, and appears in Yuri’s bedroom, ready for all the worst case scenarios, only to find Yuri sprawled out messily on his bed, duvet half-hanging off the bed, fast asleep.

Otabek blinks, confused for a second, before it hits him. 

Yuri is _dreaming_ about him. 

“Don’t have better things to dream about now, do you?” Otabek murmurs, smiling to himself, and bends down to rescue Yuri’s duvet, tucking it over Yuri gently. “Whatever it is you’re dreaming about, I hope you’ll tell me about it when you wake up.”

Yuri doesn’t tell him about it the next day, when Otabek shows up for breakfast, as is par of the course for them on Saturdays, and Otabek doesn’t mention it to him at all, because he doesn’t want Yuri to feel uncomfortable around him. 

Only, begins to happen on a regular basis. 

On Monday, Yuri says over dinner that Otabek is a mouthful to say, especially when he’s got a mouth full.

“This is why you don’t talk with your mouth full,” Otabek says in exasperation. 

“Fuck you. Don’t talk to me like I’m Phichit,” Yuri shoots back, smiling with his eyes. He spears an asparagus, and waves it at Otabek. “I’m not your son and your brother and your-”

“ _Beka_ ,” Otabek cuts him off with before Yuri can start making fun of Otabek again. “My mother used to call me Beka.”

Yuri nods in acknowledgement, but doesn’t put the nickname to use, not until later that night. 

Otabek has just righted Yuri’s duvet, and is about to take off, when Yuri shifts in his sleep, and sleepily exhales, “Beka.”

The word warms Otabek from the inside out. He hasn’t heard the nickname in hundreds of years, and it could be his memory failing him, but he doesn’t think he’s ever heard it voiced so gently before. 

He reaches out to softly card his fingers through Yuri’s sleep-mussed hair, and whispers, “Sleep well.” 

On Wednesday, Otabek is summoned into Yuri’s room again, half an hour before dawn. This time, after he tucks Yuri back in properly, he makes himself a cup of tea in Yuri’s kitchen, and makes himself comfortable on Yuri’s couch in the living room.

Yuri wakes up two hours later, shuffling his way out of his room, cursing at the sun as he does. He doesn’t jump when he catches sight of Otabek on his couch, but rather flops himself onto the other end of it.

“I’ve figured out what I want my favour to be,” he says grumpily. 

Otabek smiles. “Let’s hear it, then.”

“I want the sun to go away,” Yuri mutters. “Like, forever.”

“I can’t do that, but I can buy you curtains?” Otabek offers, and Yuri groans. 

“What good is your goblin magic for, if it can’t get rid of the sun for me?”

“Curtains,” Otabek deadpans. 

“I’m assuming you got in here using your goblin magic thing,” Yuri says, changing the subject, even though he does bother to lift his head up to glare at Otabek halfheartedly. “Why so early, though? And, an even more important question — did you bring breakfast?”

“Do you want to go for a run?” Otabek asks, instead of answering. “We could run to the park, and then get breakfast at that dim sum place Seung-gil keeps talking about while we’re there.”

Yuri squints at him. “You want to go to that dim sum restaurant where the servers _keep dying_.”

“Seung-gil also said they have really good turnip cakes,” Otabek reminds him.

“Ugh, okay,” Yuri groans. “But if I die, I’m going to haunt that place forever.”

Otabek smiles. 

—

His bedroom door opens with a soft creak.

“You know the rules, Phichit,” Otabek says, trying for authoritative, and probably failing terribly. Not that his tone of voice ever helps, to be fair; he’s never been able to get Phichit to do anything he says without at least some kind of protest. 

“I’m sure he does,” Yuri says, and closes the door behind him. 

Otabek sits up.

“Lay back down,” Yuri says, and then when Otabek doesn’t comply, is too stunned at Yuri’s presence in his room, Yuri climbs into Otabek’s bed, and forcibly pushes him back down to a horizontal position.

Then, as if to make sure that he can keep Otabek in that position, he lies down next to Otabek, and throws an arm over him.

Otabek briefly entertains the notion that this might be a dream. 

“So, about five minutes ago, Seung-gil showed up in the middle of my apartment, unannounced, and told me that you’re responsible for the storm today, and that it also definitely means that I have to come talk to you, which made no sense,” Yuri says. “Portal transporting with a Grim Reaper? Is not fun, and kind of terrifying, and I would like to avoid it forever. Please teach Seung-gil how to use the public transport.”

Despite the shit storm that today has been, Otabek manages to smile. Yuri has always had that sort of effect on him.

Yuri shifts a little closer. “Phichit is moping outside,” he murmurs. “He says you make it rain when you’re sad. Is that a goblin thing, or do you just find it comforting to be sad in the rain?”

“It’s a goblin thing,” Otabek tells him. “I can’t help it.”

Yuri hums. “It’s been raining the entire day,” he says quietly. “Seung-gil and Phichit are both worried.”

 _And you?_ Otabek wants to ask. He says instead, “They worry too much.”

“Phichit says he needs the rain to stop by tomorrow because he’s got that date,” Yuri tells him. “Seung-gil would prefer it to stop tonight. He says it’s irritating to be working in the rain.” 

“I can’t…just turn it off,” Otabek says. 

“I know.” Yuri’s arms tighten a little around Otabek. “It’s okay, though. I don’t mind the occasional rain.”

“Yuri…”

Yuri sits up slightly, and looks at him. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Otabek shakes his head. 

“Okay.” Yuri flops back down onto the bed, and fits himself to Otabek’s side. He’s so close, so much closer than he’s ever been before, and Otabek is wretchedly grateful for his presence here. “I’m going to take a nap,” Yuri decides, closing his eyes. “You can either mope about whatever it is you’re moping about, and continue being sad, or you can nap with me.”

Otabek wraps his arms around Yuri, and closes his eyes too. 

They are both awoken later by Phichit banging loudly on the door. 

Beside him —or more accurately, sprawled out across Otabek, because Yuri is terrible in his sleep—, Yuri lets out a tiny, sleepy noise that sends Otabek’s heartbeat skyrocketing. 

“It’s Phichit,” Otabek says, and is about to tell him to go back to sleep when Yuri drags himself up to a sitting position. 

“Let him in,” Yuri says. And then, to remind Otabek, he adds, “He’s been worried.”

Otabek flicks his wrist at the door, and it opens to reveal Phichit, with one palm over his eyes. 

“What are you doing?” Otabek asks in exasperation. 

“Protecting my innocence,” Phichit retorts, not removing his hand from where it’s shielding his eyes. “I swear I’m glad you’re feeling better doing whatever it is you’re doing with Yuri, and you definitely _don’t ever_ have to tell me about it because I never want to know what you both just did, but there’s a unexplainable meteor shower going outside that I think has something to do with you.”

“Meteor shower?” Yuri echoes, and the amusement in Yuri’s voice makes heat pool on Otabek’s face. 

He waits for Yuri to say something else, to make fun of him a little, the way he always does, but all Yuri does is to lean forward, and press a goddamn kiss to Otabek’s cheek. 

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Yuri says softly. 

“GODDAMMIT GOBLIN, WE ARE NOT EQUIPPED TO DEAL WITH AN ASTEROID IMPACT!” Seung-gil yells from somewhere outside.

—

“So,” Yuri starts one day, “I’ve made a decision.”

Otabek turns to him. “Hmm?”

“The sword,” Yuri says, gesturing at it. “I’d like to remove it for you.”

Otabek’s breath catches in his throat, and he doesn’t speak, doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t dare to even move, because he knows that if he does, the only thing he’ll be doing is to hightail it out of Yuri’s apartment. 

“No?” Yuri asks, curious. “I mean, you’ve stopped saying anything about it, but I know you must want it gone all the same. You wouldn’t have spent nine hundred years trying to find someone who could do it if you didn’t want it gone pretty badly.” He shrugs. “Well, I’m here now, and I want to do it for you.”

Otabek takes a breath, and then another. Slowly, because he needs to think.

“Not yet,” is what he ends up saying. 

This is too soon. 

He’s not ready to die yet. Not ready to leave Yuri. 

Yuri frowns. “Why not?” 

Otabek struggles for something to say, latches onto the only lifeline he has. “We had a deal,” he reminds Yuri. “I have to do you a favour before you do me one.”

Yuri rolls his eyes. “I don’t care about the favour anymore,” he tells Otabek. And then scowls a little, “I’m trying to be nice to you, can you not just take it with grace?”

He can’t. He doesn’t want to.

“Oh!” Yuri says, eyes lighting up with understanding. “Is this a goblin thing?”

It isn’t, but Otabek nods anyway.

“Well…” Yuri sits up straighter. “I know what I want my favour to be.”

“Yeah?” Otabek says hoarsely. 

Yuri nods. He looks, for some reason, nervous, even though he couldn’t possibly have any cause to be, and it makes Otabek wonder if he looks as terrified as he feels. 

He meets Otabek’s eyes with fierce determination. “I want you to love me.”

Otabek’s breath catches again, this time for a very different reason. 

Does Yuri not know? Has Yuri not known that Otabek has loved him for so long now?

“Yuri-”

Yuri’s face falls. 

Otabek shakes his head quickly, wanting erase the dejected look on Yuri’s face. “No,” he says, “I only meant to say that you can’t ask something of me that’s…freely given.”

Yuri blinks. “Beka?”

The nickname spurs Otabek into movement; he’s heard it many times in Yuri’s sleep, but this is the first time Yuri’s ever used it while conscious. He reaches out, frames Yuri’s face in his hands carefully.

Yuri’s lips part on a soft exhale, and it’s suddenly the most outrageous thing to Otabek that Yuri doesn’t know that Otabek loves him, that Yuri could think that Otabek would reject him. 

He has just the words to remedy the situation, sitting on the tip of his tongue, ready, so ready to be spoken at long last.

“I love you,” Otabek says.

Yuri is always glowing, to Otabek, but in that moment, when Yuri smiles at him, Otabek could swear that he’s brighter than the sun. 

—

Otabek can’t remember being happier than he has today.

Which is, of course, why he has his most intense attack that night. 

He wakes up screaming through the pain, as is usual, but that is where the similarities end. 

The pain is stronger that night, so much so that it’s almost as though something is trying to claw its way out of his chest. He tries to grit his teeth and bear through the pain, but it hurts so much.

It’s never hurt so much before. 

The gods are reminding him of his place. They are reminding him of what he has to do to leave, of how close he is to leaving.

They are telling him that he _must_ go.

He has to leave now before he gets any happier, because people like him, wretched souls like his, they don’t deserve happiness, and they don’t deserve redemption. 

He needs to remember this.

—

Otabek’s spent nine hundred years trying to move on from this world. He never thought that when the opportunity came that he would be so reluctant to take it. 

With Yuri…

Otabek thinks it’ll be okay. To die by Yuri’s hands, to have Yuri be the last face he sees before the end. He thinks that’s what the gods meant when they told him that he would be at peace at last. 

And that should be enough for him, except… Except being around humans for so long has clearly rubbed off on him. He’s greedy now, he wants more than he’s given, wants more than was promised to him.

He wants Yuri Plisetsky, and so he wants to stay.

He wants another year with Yuri. Ten. Twenty. A lifetime.

 _More_. 

But the gods don’t smile upon him. They never used to, and there’s no reason why they should start now, which is why Otabek has to make the smart decision, the _right_ decision here. 

Yuri is destined to be the goblin’s bride, to free the goblin from his punishment. If he doesn’t do as he is destined to, who is to say that the gods won’t punish Yuri as well?

Otabek has lived almost a millennia, and has caused harm to more people than he wants to remember, but Yuri Plisetsky will not be one of them.

Otabek will not allow it. 

—

He goes the fifth time Yuri calls for him.

It’s been a week since the last time he spoke to Yuri. 

Otabek has been trying his best to distance himself from Yuri. He cannot let Yuri get too attached to him, because he knows it’ll hurt Yuri when he leaves, when Yuri helps him leave. 

He doesn’t want Yuri to shed tears over him. 

When he’s done with Yuri, he wants Yuri to hate him so much that Yuri will not bother sparing a moment to think about him. 

The thought makes his heart ache, and it’s a different pain from what he’s used to, a sharper pain than the one brought on by having a blade pierced through his heart. 

It is, however, a more tolerable pain — it is for Yuri, after all. 

“Why haven’t you been showing up?” Yuri demands, angry, when Otabek materialises in front of him. “What if I was in trouble? What if I was _dying_?” 

“I would have known if you were in mortal danger,” Otabek tells him, and it’s the truth. They’re still in Seung-gil’s jurisdiction, and he’ll tell Otabek if Yuri is scheduled to die. 

“Then why are you here now?” Yuri snaps. 

“To politely ask you to stop summoning me when it isn’t necessary,” Otabek replies. “It’s very energy-consuming to go against the pull of your summons, and contrary to what you think, I do have things I need to be doing.”

Yuri takes a step back from him. “Why are you acting like this?”

Otabek cocks his head. “Like what?” 

“Like I’m a hindrance to your life,” Yuri spits out. “Like I don’t matter to you.”

 _You do, you do so much_ , Otabek doesn’t say. 

“The other day,” Yuri says. “The other day you told me that you loved me. Did you mean it? Do you love me?”

Otabek clenches his hands into tight fists where they’re clasped behind his back. “I am the goblin, and you are the goblin’s bride,” he says. “I need you to remove this sword, so I will love you if you need me to love you.”

Yuri doesn’t say anything, but his lip wobbles. 

“I love you,” Otabek says, flippant and uncaring, so unlike the careful way he’d said it the first time, even though he means it, even though he means it so much. 

Outside, it starts pouring. 

Yuri laughs, the noise sharp and bitter, and doesn’t stop until he is finally crying. “How much do you have to hate me to be this sad to tell me that you love me?” he asks. 

Otabek doesn’t reply, just stands there, still and expressionless, until Yuri gives up, and leaves the room.

He doesn’t stop Yuri.

It doesn’t stop raining for days.

—

The next time he hears from Yuri is through a text message. 

_I’ll do it_ , the text message reads. _Let’s just get it over and done with ASAP._

 _In three days_ , Otabek replies, because it’ll take at least three days to make his arrangements, to make sure that everyone will be well-provided for, to…say goodbye. 

—

Seung-gil finds him on his last night, when he’s in his study, signing over his house to Phichit. 

“What are you doing?” Seung-gil asks, peering over Otabek’s shoulder. 

“Setting my affairs in order,” Otabek tells him simply. 

“Ah,” Seung-gil says. “He’s agreed to do it, then.”

Otabek nods.

“I thought he wasn’t speaking to you.”

“I…” Made him sad. Made him cry. “I made him angry, and he wants to do it as soon as possible so I can be out of his hair once and for all.”

Seung-gil nods in understanding. “When?”

“Tomorrow,” Otabek tells him, and then flashes him a wry smile. “I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”

Seung-gil rolls his eyes. “Does he know?”

Otabek doesn’t bother asking Seung-gil what he means. Seung-gil has been against keeping the consequences of removing the sword a secret from Yuri since Seung-gil met him.

His silence is enough of an answer for Seung-gil.

“He’s going to hate you,” Seung-gil says. 

Otabek smiles. “Good thing you’ll still be here to hate on me with him then,” he says. And then, more quietly, “I know this is asking a lot, but…please look after him for me.”

Seung-gil sighs. “You should tell him.”

“What good would that do?” Otabek asks. 

“He has the right to know what he’s agreeing to do,” Seung-gil says in the well-worn tones of someone who’s had to repeat themselves more than once. 

“If I tell him,” Otabek says, and the thought is a tempting one, he’s not going to deny that, “he’ll never agree to it.”

“Nevertheless, he deserves to know what’ll happen to you when he removes the sword.”

“What _will_ happen when I remove the sword?” 

Otabek turns his gaze away from Seung-gil to face the door, where Yuri is standing, watching them, frowning suspiciously. 

“Why are you here?” Otabek asks. 

Yuri shrugs. “You haven’t changed the passcode to the door so I let myself in,” he tells Otabek. “Tomorrow’s not a good day for me, I wanted to ask if we could do it tonight.”

Otabek inhales sharply. “No,” he says. “There are still things I need to do.” 

He’s been putting off talking to Phichit, and Otabek owes it to Phichit, owes it to the entire Chulanont line, to give him some answers, to not leave him guessing at what’s happened to Otabek. 

“Don’t distract me,” Yuri says. “Tell me what’ll happen when I pull the sword out. Tell me why you want it gone so badly.”

Otabek doesn’t want to. Telling Yuri only does Yuri harm. 

“You should tell him,” Seung-gil says quietly, from between them, clapping a hand over Otabek’s shoulder. “You don’t have to look into his future to know how adversely it’ll affect him if he does it without knowing.”

Yuri’s frown deepens at Seung-gil’s words. No doubt he’s already guessing —correctly— that drawing out the sword holds more significance, more severe consequences, than he’d originally thought it would. 

He doesn’t have to be a mindreader like Seung-gil to know that Yuri’s not going to do it if he doesn’t know what’ll happen. 

The choice has been taken out of his hands. 

He sighs, and says, “Seung-gil, can you let me and Yuri talk in private?”

Seung-gil nods, and disappears in a puff of smoke. 

“So?” Yuri demands, when Seung-gil is gone. “What happens if I pull the sword out?” 

“I die,” Otabek says simply. 

Yuri draws in a sharp breath. 

“This sword is the source behind the curse of my immortality,” Otabek continues, looking away from Yuri. He’s trying his best to be clinical about it, to not show Yuri how afraid he is, how reluctant he is to die, to leave Yuri here without him. “Removing it ends my punishment. When it’s gone, when you remove it, I will turn into dust, and return to the earth. I will be at peace.”

When he chances a peek back up at Yuri, Yuri’s eyes are wet, and his jaw is clenched tightly. 

Otabek has made him upset again, and _still_ Yuri is glowing.

“When were you planning on telling me?” Yuri asks. 

“I wasn’t,” Otabek confesses. 

Yuri is silent for a beat. Then another. And then, he whispers, “You’re so fucking selfish.”

Otabek looks on, helpless, as Yuri’s tears start to fall. 

“Did you think about what this would do to me? What did you think was going to happen to me after you fucking return to the earth? You’ll be at peace, but what about _me_? Did you think about how losing you would affect me?” Yuri snorts, and wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Of course you didn’t. Because you’re fucking selfish.”

“Yuri-”

“I won’t do it,” Yuri says in a rush, before Otabek is even able to say anything more. “I won’t remove that goddamn sword out of your fucking chest. I refuse to.” 

“ _Yuri_.” 

Yuri flinches when Otabek reaches out for him, and Otabek lets his hand drop back to his side. 

“Go find yourself another goddamn bride. I don’t care if it takes you another nine hundred years,” Yuri manages to say in between sucking in deep breaths. “I don’t want to ever see you again. I quit. I’m done.”

—

Yuri loses track of how long he’s out there, walking in the rain, trying and failing to stop himself from crying.

At some point, Seung-gil shows up, starts walking by his side, and the rain stops falling on them. Seung-gil has created a bubble around them to keep them from getting wet, and Yuri would be more grateful at the gesture if it didn’t mean that Seung-gil now gets front row seats to watch him cry.

Yuri doesn’t know if he’s relieved that it isn’t Otabek that’s come after him, or if he’s disappointed that Otabek hadn’t bothered. 

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Yuri says, after a few minutes of ignoring Seung-gil.

“Suits me fine,” Seung-gil replies. “I don’t want to talk to you either.”

They keep walking. 

Then, “I hate him.”

He hates Otabek for wanting to die, for choosing death over staying here with Yuri. 

“Me too,” Seung-gil says quietly, and somehow, Yuri thinks Seung-gil knows exactly what he means to say. “I hate that in the three hundred years I’ve known him, all he’s been working towards is his own death.”

Yuri swallows, and tries to blink the tears welling up in his eyes again away.

“I hate it, but I understand,” Seung-gil continues, gentler than Yuri has ever heard him be. “He’s been through a lot in the nine hundred odd years he’s been alive. It’s a painful existence for him.”

“What about me? Why is this all about him? What happens to me?” Yuri asks, and hates that his voice breaks in the middle, hates that he’s starting to cry again, hates that he sounds so _weak_. “Why do I have to fall in love with him just to lose him?” he asks softly.

Seung-gil smiles. It’s a bitter smile. “Therein lies the cruelty of the curse — he has to suffer through his worst punishment before he can be free.”

“Punishment?” Yuri echoes. “I’m the one who has to kill him. I’m the one being punished.”

“Do you think he doesn’t love you back, Yuri?” Seung-gil asks, coming to a halt. “Do you think it doesn’t hurt him the way it hurts you? More, even? Do you think he isn’t suffering, that he hasn’t been suffering the past few months, just to be able to spend that time with you?”

“I…”

The words don’t make sense to Yuri. There are so many things he doesn’t understand. 

“The gods are cruel,” Seung-gil finishes, and they both fall silent. 

—

Otabek doesn’t expect Yuri to come back, but Yuri is surprising in all the conceivable ways, so maybe Otabek shouldn’t have been startled when the door to his study slams open, and Yuri crosses the room angrily, still wet from the rain outside, eyes still red and puffy.

“You don’t get to do this to me,” Yuri says, when he’s right in front of Otabek, leaning in close, like the distance will help the words to sink in better. “You don’t get to waltz into my life, make me fall in love with you, and then decide to push me away because you’ve got a fucking death wish.” He’s breathing heavily, still angry at Otabek, rightfully so. “I won’t let you.”

Otabek nods. “Okay,” he says, because when faced with Yuri, fierce and righteous and glowing so brightly, he physically can’t say anything else. 

“I mean it,” Yuri says strongly. “I won’t let you. Die, or like, find another bride.”

“There is no other bride,” Otabek says automatically.

“It doesn’t matter,” Yuri says, shaking his head. “Even if there was another bride, I won’t let you look for them. You’re _mine_ , and you’re not _dying_ and _leaving me behind_ , because I won’t let you.”

Otabek swallows. 

His nine hundred years of pain was meant to culminate in this moment, he thinks. To make him choose to live, despite the pain. To grasps at the offered strings of life, just to be with Yuri. 

It’ll be a painful existence, but less unbearable than leaving Yuri.

The thought triggers a paradigm shift, and for the first time, Otabek recognises the situation for what it is — his punishment is meant to be unending. He was never meant to die at the goblin bride’s hand, it was never Yuri’s destiny to kill him. 

He was supposed to _fall in love_ and make the hard choice, and if the gods had meant for Otabek to continue living, they can’t in good conscience punish Yuri for not killing him.

Otabek breaks into a smile. 

“Okay,” he whispers. 

Yuri looks at him. “Good,” he says, and lets Otabek envelop him in an embrace. “Now tell me that you love me, and try to sound like you mean it this time.”

Otabek laughs. He has never felt freer. 

“Okay,” he says. 

—

He wakes up screaming.

“Otabek? What’s wrong? Beka?” Yuri is close, holding onto Otabek.

Yuri’s crying, and oh, _oh_ , Otabek messed up, he shouldn’t have let Yuri stay, he should have thought about this. 

Yuri doesn’t need to see this, doesn’t need to suffer just because Otabek is suffering.

“Phichit!” Yuri yells in the direction of the door.

Otabek manages to shake his head. “He won’t hear you,” he gasps out. “I sealed the room with magic.”

Yuri’s eyes go wide; he’s probably come to the correct conclusion that this isn’t a one-time occurrence. 

“It’ll pass,” Otabek grits out, and grinds his teeth together to keep himself from screaming out in pain. He doesn’t need to frighten Yuri more than he already has. 

Yuri’s eyes go straight to the sword in his chest. “That’s what he meant,” Yuri murmurs. “That’s what Seung-gil meant when he said that you were suffering.” His palm closes over the hilt of the sword, and he tugs at it experimentally. 

It moves, and Otabek can’t breathe for how wrong it feels. 

“It’s okay,” Yuri says. “It’s okay, I’ll make it stop, it’ll be okay,” he babbles on through his tears. 

He tugs at the sword again, harder this time, and no, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go, this isn’t what Otabek wants.

Otabek summons all his strength, and pushes Yuri away from him, forcefully enough to send him flying into the dresser. When Yuri crumples onto the ground, unconscious, Otabek crawls his way over, holds Yuri close to him, and tries to breathe through the pain.

—

Yuri wakes up with a sudden jolt. 

Otabek takes Yuri’s hand in his. “It’s okay,” he says softly. “I’m okay now.”

Yuri’s gaze is immediately drawn to the sword still buried in Otabek’s chest. “You didn’t let me,” he says.

Otabek swallows, and says, “You were right. I am selfish.” He squeezes Yuri’s hand tightly. “I should’ve let you do it, should’ve died, should’ve let you slowly forget me. You have so much time to do that, so much time to find someone better, but _I want you_.” 

He lets go of Yuri’s hand, reaches up to wipe the tears that’ve escaped from Yuri’s eyes away. 

“If we keep you in good health, you still have another seventy years in you,” Otabek says. “I’ve put up with this occasional pain for nine hundred years, I can do another seventy. It’s a small price to pay for lifetime with you. Let me be selfish one more time, please?”

Yuri trembles under his touch. 

“You’ll tell me, if it gets too much?” Yuri asks, voice small. 

“It won’t,” Otabek promises him, fierce. 

“But if it does,” Yuri insists. “If it gets too much, and you want it to stop, promise you’ll tell me.”

“Okay,” Otabek concedes.

—

“I know Yuri is going to move in, and you don’t plan on dying any more, because _supernatural hearing_ , and I’m very happy for the both of you,” Seung-gil says, “but I’ve already moved all my things here, I’ve settled in, and I have no plans to move out.”

Otabek only smiles because he knows Seung-gil can’t see it. 

“Only if you take the room next to Phichit’s, and leave the upper floor for Yuri and me,” he tells Seung-gil, and feels Yuri grin against his skin. 

Phichit’s interest in acting has been reignited, and he’s joined an amateur drama club that meets every Thursday night. He has, unfortunately, not gotten any better at acting, but has somehow learnt to be a lot more melodramatic, which Otabek hadn’t even thought was possible. 

“Nope,” Seung-gil says. “It’s fine, I’ll move out tomorrow.”

Then, “I’m honestly really happy for you.”

And then, “But seriously, you guys need to be more considerate about the people who have supernatural hearing in this house. I can hear _everything_.”

“Good,” Yuri murmurs, and Otabek laughs at the sound of disgust Seung-gil makes. 

It’s not the perfect life, but it’s far better than he’d ever expected it would be. For the first time in almost a thousand years, he is happy, he is contented, and-

“ _I can hear you thinking, goblin_ ,” Seung-gil growls, and then hangs up as Yuri bursts into laughter. 

-he is at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all liked the fic! I threw myself out of a window writing this. Granted, my parents live in a single-storey house, and the window is more a glass sliding door, and I didn't throw myself out of it as much as I walked in and out of it dejectedly a couple hundred times, but. MY POINT IS. Actual tears were shed writing this, why is writing so hard? /o\
> 
> As usual, I'm [here on Tumblr](http://sarah-yyy.tumblr.com), come and cry over Otabek and Yurio with me please!
> 
> ETA: The lovely [minacoleta](http://minacoleta.tumblr.com) drew [fanart for this fic](http://minacoleta.tumblr.com/post/156284653083/o%C3%B9-sen-vont-ils-ces-baisers-qui-se-perdent-quand), and I am here sobbing because AHHHHHHHHHHH??????


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